A Drift (Not adrift) North Through The Pyrenees & Across France

We enjoyed a couple of days crossing Aragon with its empty vistas stopping at one point where fallen livestock are left for the birds of prey to feast on - the mirador had a braille landscape interpretation map - which was a first for me. We also pulled up alongside one of the giant turbines of a nearby windfarm to be enthralled by the sheer scale of these installations.

At Cretas we stayed two nights giving us the opportunity to visit Valderobbres where a country fair and market added to the charm of the place.

An overnight in the short stay car park at Barcelona airport put us conveniently in place for Mandy's return flight to Manchester which via the Easyjet app I tracked as it passed over me late that morning and then across my favourite area of mid Wales where I am also heading albeit at a much steadier rate.



Leaving Barcelona I set off for the Garrotxa National Park which covers an area of dormant volcanic activity characterised by numerous volcanic cones (puys), old lava flows and abundant tree cover - mostly beech, the famous fageda scenery. Historic Santa Pau was remarkable with a central square and streets little changed in centuries and on the edge a small aire provided a base for a couple of nights and two good walks. These included visiting the small church nestled within a puy and the former quarry that created an inside view of the cone's structure - really quite remarkable.

A via verde heading towards Girona provided a good bike ride before I moved on to St Joan de les Abadesses which had a beautiful mediaeval bridge just next to the overnight parking. From here another VV took me down to Ripoll with its spectacular monastery in the centre of town.

A lovely road over the Cadi range brought me in to France for a good shop and a bottle of gas before returning to Spain via the dramatic Tunel de Cadi that passed beneath my next destination.
The foothills of the Pyrenees provided a stunning landscape to pass through as I headed to the Cadi Moixero National Park where I intended to tackle Pedraforca at just over 8,000' whose giant bulk dominated the valley. I drove up to the start point to get the feel of the place where over a decade ago a winter attempt with Bill and Amber was thwarted by icy conditions. With perfect weather forecast in two days time I decided to drop back to Saldes and then take the road up to the starting point for Gallina Pelada, another fine summit.
This was reached by a steep climb through pine forests that emerged on to an alpine plateau where near a spring lay a mountain refuge. From here a long ridge with extensive views south took me to the summit - the distinct ridge of Montserrat near Barcelona very visible in the distant haze.
Moving along the Sierra Blanco, a narrow ridge of limestone gave me access to the start of an alternative descent that was at first quite challenging, settled in to steep scree and then rejoined the pine woods at the tree line. From here on a craggy bluff I watched an eagle soaring before descending to a forest track that eventually returned me to the van meeting en route a small chamois.

I parked up with a perfect view of Pedraforca in a forest clearing and checked the planned route and weather before an early night.
An early start saw me back at the Mirador de Gresolet below Pedraforca and on my way by 10.00.
Passing another mountain hut the footpath wound it's way up steadily through pine forests on the north side of the mountain whose gullies still held plenty of snow and ice several thousand feet above. At my level many of the gullies held huge boulders and debris as the area had been hit hard by heavy storms last summer and in places the path was washed away. However I eventually reached the col at the point where we had turned round years before and whilst it was warm and sunny a gusty wind blew. The final route up to the first summit was steep and rocky with large icy patches that would have merited an axe and crampons but by scrambling on some rather exposed rocky outcrops I eventually reached the top using the fixed ropes for the last few metres. Up here it was strangely calm with 360 degree views and a route onwards marked by yellow dots that initially descended slightly before finally bringing me out on to the summit of Pedraforca itself. I had seen no one all day and took time to enjoy the remarkable vista over lunch. I was reluctant to return the same way as I figured the scrambling would be a challenge and knew a route to the south was marked on the map. Shortly I heard some cursing and a Spanish guy emerged sweating profusely having taken that route up. Thus reassured that it was possible I dropped off on steep rocks and eventually reached the col between two of Pedraforca's lower tops. From here ninety minutes of tedious scree dropped precipitously down to the tree line -no wonder the other guy had found it hard work. Another ninety minutes through the pine clad slopes had me back at the van and I returned to the previous night's base very pleased to have ticked off a substantial top. The following morning a Spanish VW van pulled alongside and the driver's daughter explained that her dad had recognised me from Cretas a week previously and was keen for a chat about van life. She acted as interpreter and seemed intrigued by my unusual lifestyle.

After spending the night on the aire at Sort I took the minor road north and then branched off on a rough track - only open from May to November that took me through high mountain scenery to the remote church at Montgarri which during WW2 had offered shelter to many thousands of refugees fleeing the Nazi onslaught in France. It was a place to reflect on such a stark history that took place in such superb surroundings. The van had coped well with the track but unfortunately on a raised cattle grid left exposed by erosion , and despite using my ramps to compensate the final bar put a hole in my fresh water tank and dumped 70 litres of water on the ground.
Still it looked repairable so I headed in to Vielha, stuck a wash in at the laundrette and went off to the DIY store for ideas. Later that evening I stopped on a quaint campsite by the river - the owner had yet to cut the grass so amongst a carpet of wild flowers I sealed the hole with  sealant and then added strength by using a two part plastic repair compound - by morning all seemed to have set so I filled up and headed south through the 3 mile long Tunel de Vielha then heading west to Ainsa where a spacious aire on the edge of the village made a perfect base. I walked in to the traditional village on a sunny evening and was lucky enough to spot a robin's nest hidden in the church cloisters. The eco museum made an interesting diversion but as I returned to the van the long line of dark cloud that had loomed away to the north approached steadily. Around 2am I was awoken by a single magnificent thunderclap after which it rained torrentialy until dawn with more sound and light effects. I noticed a couple with their young child and 3 dogs occupying a SWB VW T4 with a pop top had at some point moved well away from the electrical transformer  for the village.

With diesel being cheaper in Spain than France I filled up before taking the road north, passing through the Bielsa tunnel and emerging rather surprisingly in to 4 inches of snow - the northern (French) side of this range obviously having seen a more wintry version of last night's storm.
Anyway after descending several thousand feet things improved as I began this final leg of my 8 month trip.

The small aire at Condom made a good base for the voies vertes that headed east with visits to another historic village - Laressingle - and a bridge well known to pilgrims en route to Santiago de Compostella.
Then it was on to the Lot Valley for two days cycling on sections of the Veloroute 86 - the latter taking me down to Cahors with its beautiful turreted bridge and Albas providing another quiet spot to stay right by the river. 
Moving north again to the Creuse Valley  near Le Blanc saw more cycling along almost deserted cycle tracks with the magnificent viaduct at Le Blanc a main feature. The old stations and crossing keepers' cottages are largely restored and occupied and seem to be a bargain at around £100k.

Lencloitre near Chatellerault gave access to the Green Line a 40km route that was again almost deserted  - the whole area is largely agricultural with most old stations having grain silos in the marshaling yards. The flowers were superb whilst most of the track was shaded by trees whose blossom created a white carpet to ride on.

I am now in the Loire Valley and will move on tomorrow as I have a ferry to Portsmouth in just under a week - there are more VVs to do across Normandy and I expect to post again after the HUBB event in three weeks time.

Piccies here CLICK

Spring in Scotland, Easter on the Vias Verdes of Spain

After a quiet night at the motorhome dealer near Malaga I left the van in their care and enjoyed a smooth return to Sheffield where a planned fortnight of catching up with friends and family was overshadowed by an unexpected stay in hospital for Mandy.
Once discharged she began to recover well enough for me to return to plan A and on the Saturday I picked up a hire car for the journey to Scotland. We all met up near Penrith and then endured a rather lengthy journey to Inverinate as two RTC's en route meant we had to reroute via Inverness.
The comfortable cottage made a good base for our week and after a rather damp and cloudy trudge on the Sunday we enjoyed excellent weather, superb walks and good company. Some snow on the higher tops added to the enjoyment and on the last day's walking I managed to get sun burnt as we followed a classic ridge south in perfect conditions. With the hire car due back early on the Saturday I drove home overnight after a farewell meal with the odd stag adding an element of surprise between Inverinate and Fort William.

Sunday saw us on the rail replacement bus to Stockport and then a train to Manchester Airport followed by a short walk to the excellent Radisson Blu hotel for a decent room overlooking the runway and terminal buildings which kept me amused until we dined well at their restaurant before an early night.
The 6am flight back to Malaga went well and we felt like film stars as the waiting taxi driver held up a sign with our names on at arrivals. The van was in good order so we filled up with water, paid the 70 euros for almost a month's parking and headed off to a small ironmonger's for gas before driving north to Coripe a small halt on the Via Verde de la Sierra that I had spotted on my previous visit.
Surprisingly we had the enchanting place to ourselves and enjoyed two superb rides out to the end stations with Olvera providing an excellent meal in the sun spoilt only by a drunk British expat who lived in the village and accosted everyone in an intrusive and mildly aggressive manner.

Heading north we passed through Antequera and in the hope of witnessing one of the spectacular Spanish Easter Parades decided to stay the night. We enjoyed walking up to the castle and sneaked a look in to the bull ring but it appeared that most parades would be on Good Friday.






Conscious that Easter is a big holiday for the Spanish we decided to get to our planned base early and pulled up at Dona Mencia alongside the VV del Aceite where a good sized free aire was already filling up. Being small we were able to pass by the larger vans and tuck away at the end with only one neighbour, literally adjacent to the cycle track.
Three nights and two days cycling over the Easter weekend were enjoyed with meals in the converted stations and a nice encounter with Monty from Bristol who was linking a number of the VV's across southern Spain on an extended bike packing trip.








Cazorla in the eponymous National Park was a delightful town with a well maintained campsite (San Isicio) just on the edge. They had had very heavy rain over the holiday weekend and were spreading chippings on the muddiest areas - the Dutch owners were very friendly and the place had a lot of rustic charm. It's biggest downside however was the steep access and tight turns in to pitches which again due to our modest dimensions were not an issue but certainly provided entertainment when a large caravan and 4x4 attempted to pull in.
The town has an older centre with a remarkable either half finished or half ruined church dominating the square and a lively river running down the valley. Following this up to a waterfall made for a good walk and a longer 13 mile effort took us up to El Chorro where we watched eagles and vultures soar above the pine clad cliffs.
A coffee and ice cream parlour with seriously comfortable seating provided the perfect spot to give in to temptation whilst watching the world go by.
Passing through the Cazorla National Park in cloudy conditions meant we missed seeing it at its best and given the huge number of hiking possibilities it is definitely a place to return to. Segurra de la Sierra on the edge of the park was an attractive town with an imposing castle and quirky rectangular bull ring.
Dropping in to the Murcia region the weather picked up as we reached Mula to stay in the aire behind a swimming pool with the odd van in situ. After a few hours in the sun we walked in to town to see its pair of beautiful churches before a very peaceful night.
The VV del Noroestre took us through the arid lands that typify this area and ended in a geology park on the edge of Murcia itself. The forty mile ride was a good indication that M was returning to full strength.

Saturday saw us bowling along towards Elche where  we checked out our planned stop for the night - the waterfowl reserve at the Pargue Natural el Fondo. The quiet car park alongside the visitor centre looked ideal and with time to spare we walked some of the boardwalks out over the water with excellent views of a range of birds including graceful flamingos, red knobbed coots and the like. That afternoon we visited friends based in their remarkable 40' Winnebago that is currently providing a comfortable base for Nina to recover from a serious accident before Christmas. Under Pete's tender care she has made great progress and is now waiting for the surgeon to approve initial weight bearing.
After a tour of their spacious and stylish accommodation Pete and I perused the various water, gas, electric and waste systems that underpin such luxury whilst the girls enjoyed the hot sunshine. Pete produced delicious tapas and a great paella to round off a very enjoyable afternoon and we returned at dusk to our base to be astounded by the vibrant frog chorus.
We had arranged to meet up on the Sunday so at noon P&N arrived in a borrowed car to run us all down to the coast at Santa Pola where we walked along the seafront before choosing a restaurant for a late lunch. Thus around five we strolled back enjoying a quick ice cream whilst admiring an old German brewery lorry that cunningly disguised a camper conversion. It was attracting quite a bit of attention, something that P&N have got used to as they have an impressive set up once all 3 slide outs are in place.
Back at the bird reserve we donned long sleeves and trousers, slapped on the midge repellent and took a late night walk out over the water to enjoy the remarkable cacophony of frogs, toads and waterfowl before sleeping soundly.
Monday the 29th of April saw us circling the bird reserve on flat roads and tracks reminiscent of the Somerset Levels (apart from the palm trees that almost transported us back to the oases of Morocco )
before moving on to the VV de Maigmo near Agost. The 15 mile ride north passed through tunnels and over viaducts and was an easy return being almost entirely downhill. We probably could have stayed in the old station car park at Agost but instead headed as planned to Castalla where the town's aire was handily placed for the centre. We walked up to the imposing castle but had an early night after the day's total of 40 miles in the saddle.
The town had a market the next morning but I disappeared in to one of the remarkable Chinese stores that feature in most towns these days to emerge triumphant with a plastic plunger for 60p that will I hope persuade the sink to drain more freely.

Our base that night was at La Bolla campsite near Vilena that sat right alongside another VV. The owner lived in a bizarre sphere house and put us on a shady pitch where we relaxed as a wash was done for a very reasonable 2 euros.
We left this drying as we took the VV to Biar crossing the high speed line to Madrid as a sleek modern train swished by.



Albaraccin was our destination up in the mountains near Teruel but as we arrived on the aire the heavens opened so we waited before walking down to the medieval town whose narrows streets and jumbled housing lay beneath a mighty castle and substantial defensive wall. Although the rain had stopped low cloud persisted so we didn't see the place at its best. However as it is very close to Spain's longest VV, the Ojos Negros, that runs over 100 miles mostly downhill (!) from north of Teruel to the coast I expect we will be back. The aire was very peaceful but as the following morning the sun was still sulking we dropped south to Navajas for two nights on the well run and ideally placed campsite, situated as it was adjacent to the VV. We cycled north (uphill) for 10 miles and then freewheeled back stopping briefly to look at a Civil War bunker lying between the VV and the live rail line. Remarkably the mining company  working north of Teruel decided in the last century that it was cheaper to spend 3 years constructing their own line almost parallel to the existing line as the latter's owners were charging too much for freight. It is the mineral line that now forms the cycle track and down at Caudiel we enjoyed drinks in the square with tortilla for M and snails with chorizo for me.
Today we walked in to the village for fruit, veg and meat before relaxing in the sun - this was a mistake as once we eventually got on the bikes to head south the heavens soon opened and we returned drenched, my first soaking in over 7 months away apart from a very wet walk in Langdale last November.

So we now head towards Barcelona with better weather forecast and a VV to do down near Tarragona before M flies home and I spend time in the Pyrenees around Andorra. I hope to climb Pedraforca in the Serra de Cadi and then check out some of the voies vertes in France before returning home in early June in time for the HUBB event - shameless plug below.



Piccies of the last few weeks here, next post likely to be from France in a week or two.